"I told you this would happen Ms. Joens. I got one..."
This was the passing comment given to me by a former student just before dismissal today. My own class was packing up, grabbing their backpacks, and I happened to be standing in the hallway as the boy trudged on by, defiance in his voice.
"What did you get?" I questioned, confused.
"A referral," he responded, flashing a glimpse of an envelope without looking in my direction and moving on down the hallway.
There were only a few minutes left before the bell was to ring, my class had a lot to pick up, and there was so much commotion in the hallway by other 2nd grade classes it was easy to get lost in it all. This comment, however, stopped me and I knew I needed to address it.
This was the same boy whose mom had walked out on him last year. We went through a lot, and I mean a LOT (just read my previous post) getting through that season of his life. I had already cried so much for him, and my fear was that he would start to get on the wrong path. I could feel him testing me last year and could catch a glimpse of what his future might be if he grew more defiant, less trusting of adults, and ultimately a teacher's nightmare. His little life is so impressionable right now, and it killed me to see him accepting his fate of ending up in the office as if it was just a matter of time.
I called his name and beckoned him back. He turned, shoulders shrugged, lip jutted out and giving off an impression of callousness. This boy, who I had to retain due to his insufficient progress last year. Who could blame him for not putting school as a priority? He was just down the hall from me now, but I rarely got to engage with him. Yet I know him. I know him very well. And what happened in the next few moments is powerful in reflection to really see just how much of an impact you can have on someone's life.
He came up to me, still not directing eye contact, and I asked him to tell me what happened. He told me what he had said, which involved making a very serious threat to another student, and I asked for more information on the situation. He confided what had sparked the incident, and I heard him out. I then asked him to come closer and wrapped my arm around him, bending down to talk directly to him. I told him I was sorry to hear that had happened and that he should be careful with his words. I hugged him and challenged him to do better, "because you're a good kid. Don't think you're a bad kid. I know you, you're my Alex, and you're not a bad kid. You hear me?" He nodded, eyes glistening a bit, and then went on his way.
I later found out from his teacher that he came into her room bawling. She assumed it was because of the referral, but I knew he wasn't crying from getting in trouble. It had to have been me who caused him to cry. I had no idea that he got so emotional just moments after our interaction - he was initially so cold. I could have only hoped that my words hit home, and thank God they did something. It is incredible to witness how powerful and influential God has ordained human relationships to be, and we each must choose to use that power for good or harm. I cannot forget what position my job puts me in with these kids, and I wouldn't trade moments like this for the world!!
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
"…You listen to their cry..."
He was the last student I had at dismissal that Friday afternoon, and as he and the few others from other classes were waiting to get picked up, one adult walked by observing how amazing it was that we still had kids past the normal dismissal window.
"What are all of you still doing here? You need to get home and spend some time with your mommas!" he jested, as Mother's Day was in just a couple days. But as the man walked inside the building, the eyes of my student met mine, wide and alarmed.
"He doesn't know," was all I said.
The little boy jerked his chin up and pursed his lips for a moment, as if to say he got and understood my message. Then his eyes turned down at his hands fiddling with the strings of his backpack.
Yes, he doesn't know that just earlier today when the class was making cards for Mother's Day, you said you hadn't seen your mom in so long that you weren't quite sure what she looked like anymore, and therefore couldn't draw a picture of her. He doesn't know that your mom had simply decided to not be a mom, and left you, your brother, and your sister without any proper goodbye. He doesn't know about all the times you sat at my desk, tears rolling down your face, as you tried to reason through your situation. All those moments I pushed everything else aside and sat across from you, face to face, and let you talk it out. I've heard the story over and over. I've seen your emotions ride up and down like a roller coaster. I've let you take your anger out on me, as your trust for adults close to you starts to diminish. I've reminded you how I care about you and how I'm not there to hurt you, and I've strived to prove it and keep your trust. Oh, and how many times I've cried for you and prayed for you that you don't know about. It kills me to see the destruction in your little world and the very harmful effects it has on your development. Instinct has me wanting to shelter you and make it all better, but alas, I cannot. I am powerless to right those wrongs, because I am not your mom, and could never replace her. I can get angry, I can feel sad, but still, these empathetic emotions cannot take the place of yours.
So, my dear student, all I have are moments like these. Moments where little words are said, but I can see nonverbal understandings between us. Contrasted to the adult that knows little about you, I realize how much I do know and what obligation I have to be sensitive to that. My eyes are also opened to the reality of what this job is as I will come across many many more like you. That is why I know teaching is my calling, and I pray that your time in my classroom is a breath of fresh air where you feel safe and loved. I pray it is a moment when you feel like the special child that you are, and I place you in God's hands as I must trust His will and the fact that He brought us together. How loved you are, dear one, and I pray that in your darkest night, He will be there to calm your fears and ease your pain.
"You hear, O Lord, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more."
- Psalm 10:17-18
"What are all of you still doing here? You need to get home and spend some time with your mommas!" he jested, as Mother's Day was in just a couple days. But as the man walked inside the building, the eyes of my student met mine, wide and alarmed.
"He doesn't know," was all I said.
The little boy jerked his chin up and pursed his lips for a moment, as if to say he got and understood my message. Then his eyes turned down at his hands fiddling with the strings of his backpack.
Yes, he doesn't know that just earlier today when the class was making cards for Mother's Day, you said you hadn't seen your mom in so long that you weren't quite sure what she looked like anymore, and therefore couldn't draw a picture of her. He doesn't know that your mom had simply decided to not be a mom, and left you, your brother, and your sister without any proper goodbye. He doesn't know about all the times you sat at my desk, tears rolling down your face, as you tried to reason through your situation. All those moments I pushed everything else aside and sat across from you, face to face, and let you talk it out. I've heard the story over and over. I've seen your emotions ride up and down like a roller coaster. I've let you take your anger out on me, as your trust for adults close to you starts to diminish. I've reminded you how I care about you and how I'm not there to hurt you, and I've strived to prove it and keep your trust. Oh, and how many times I've cried for you and prayed for you that you don't know about. It kills me to see the destruction in your little world and the very harmful effects it has on your development. Instinct has me wanting to shelter you and make it all better, but alas, I cannot. I am powerless to right those wrongs, because I am not your mom, and could never replace her. I can get angry, I can feel sad, but still, these empathetic emotions cannot take the place of yours.
So, my dear student, all I have are moments like these. Moments where little words are said, but I can see nonverbal understandings between us. Contrasted to the adult that knows little about you, I realize how much I do know and what obligation I have to be sensitive to that. My eyes are also opened to the reality of what this job is as I will come across many many more like you. That is why I know teaching is my calling, and I pray that your time in my classroom is a breath of fresh air where you feel safe and loved. I pray it is a moment when you feel like the special child that you are, and I place you in God's hands as I must trust His will and the fact that He brought us together. How loved you are, dear one, and I pray that in your darkest night, He will be there to calm your fears and ease your pain.
"You hear, O Lord, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more."
- Psalm 10:17-18
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Flying Standby
My Dad has what I consider to be one of the coolest jobs on the planet. He is a pilot for American Airlines and travels all sorts of places all the time. (It got really weird when a coffee barista in Honolulu recognized him as a frequent customer.) One of the perks to being the daughter of a pilot is that my younger siblings and I grew up flying places around the U.S. and getting acquainted with several different airports. In fact, I remember when I started finding out that not everybody chooses to fly and that some of my friends had never even been on a plane before. It was such a foreign concept to me!
While we have the privilege of hopping on planes without paying the price for a ticket, it does mean that we have to fly standby. This basically means we get a seat only if there is a seat available. It makes sense and it seems fair. Usually this is not a problem and we can get to where we want to go with the exception of a few flights every now and then where we are bumped to the next one. If this happens we simply explore the airport, read at the gate, and wait patiently until there are seats for us. Sometimes we have to fly in groups and choose which people to leave behind. There was one time we were denied seats in first class because we were wearing jeans and that is not the proper dress code (for non-revenue passengers), so we had to wait three hours for the next flight. That never happened again, which means that every time I fly I'm wearing slacks. (A lot of people now ask me if I'm traveling for work.)
I thought I knew how to roll with the punches that come with flying standby, but never have I ever tried to fly in and out of LAX.
Los Angeles International Airport.
One of my very close friends is living in LA this summer because she is currently an intern for Warner Brothers! This is a really awesome opportunity for her, and of course I told her I would come and visit at some point this summer. Originally, my friend, Laura, and I were planning on going to see Claire, and the three of us had an entire weekend marked with a full itinerary.
Laura and I packed our bags and woke up at an ungodly hour on a Thursday morning (4am) to see if we could catch the first flight out of DFW. If we did not, there would be no worries because there was a flight departing for LAX every hour, and since we had been listed for the first flight, we would assuredly be given seats by the end of the day.
I have never seen anything like it. Full flights and oversold flights with more than 50 passengers on standby. Our names would bounce through the numbers in line going from the 40s to the teens and then back up to the 30s... we were getting nowhere. The day resulted in seven hours at the airport bouncing between gates and six missed flights. We gave up and went home after that feeling rather depressed.
2 weeks later, I told Claire I would try again. Why not at least try? However, this time I had very low expectations. I didn't want to get my hopes up! I packed a bag early on a Friday morning and planned to head to the airport after work. After talking to my Dad about how flights were looking, however, I saw that once again the plan was futile. There would be no traveling from DFW to LAX that day.
"Saturday looks like it might work though," he told me, so I planned to try in the morning instead. The last flight out of DFW on Friday night was cancelled, so this made things even more complicated. It looked like my only chance would be to opt for John Wayne in Orange County as my destination. I told Claire I would let her know if I caught a flight and told my Dad I would keep him updated and early that morning my Mom drove me out to the airport.
I got through security fine and made it to my gate, spotting my name as the seventh on the standby passenger list. I sat and began to read where I had left off in The Hobbit, wondering in the back of my mine how long my wait would be at the airport that day before I gave up again. Once the entire plane had been boarded I changed my seat to be closer to the gate agents so that I could easily get information about being rolled over to the next flight.
Then, to my surprise, the gate agent called my name! I walked up to the desk, a simple boarding pass that was only meant to get me through security in hand, waiting to see if I could trade it for an actual plane ticket with a seat number on it. The two ladies on their computers hardly paid me any attention as they balanced phone calls, read information, and printed documents in a rush to have all in order before the plane took off. Finally, one of them looked up and pointed a manicured finger at me saying, "You're a maybe."
Ok, a "maybe". I felt like that was my constant status with a running record of turning into a "no". But I could deal with that, so I patiently waited at the ticket-checking machine, not daring to get my hopes up, all the while watching the two gate agents stress about getting this plane properly loaded on time. After what might have been only a couple of minutes, the same lady with the manicure looked up again and commanded, "Alright Heidi, follow me," taking off quickly down the jet bridge.
This was really strange - something I have never done before. I've never strolled down the jet bridge without a legitimate ticket in hand. Of course, this could not mean that I actually had a seat, so still I tried not to be too hopeful. She did not even look back at me when we got down to the plane, and I knew it would be foolish to follow her on board, so I awkwardly stood off to the side next to a worker who was collecting strollers to load underneath. There were not any passengers in view, so I was left there feeling teased as they had brought me that close to the plane only so I could look at their anxious fingers itching to close the door and close me out. Would I watch it pull away from the bridge too? It was too cruel!
Finally, the gate agent stepped off the plane and acknowledged me again. "Row 19!" was all she said, indicating that there was no time to lose. Towing my bag behind me I entered the plane, and the male flight attendant looked at me impatiently and actually ordered me with these words: "Quick as a bunny." I would have laughed if I wasn't feeling so rushed!
As I stormed down the aisle as quickly as was possible without hitting other passengers with my carry-ons, I was beginning to think about how this was the first time I was only told a row to go to and not actually given a seat number. For a second I wanted to panic, but then I realized that with everyone else seated it would not be hard to find my seat. I had to text both my parents and Claire who were all waiting to hear if I had made this flight, and they were already telling us to put away our electronics. Only moments after I was seated, the plane began to back out of the terminal. I started to just breathe and try to go through everything that had just happened in my head, and that's when it first sunk in - I was actually going to be seeing my friend and spending my weekend in California!! I finally made it!
And it was well worth it. :)
While we have the privilege of hopping on planes without paying the price for a ticket, it does mean that we have to fly standby. This basically means we get a seat only if there is a seat available. It makes sense and it seems fair. Usually this is not a problem and we can get to where we want to go with the exception of a few flights every now and then where we are bumped to the next one. If this happens we simply explore the airport, read at the gate, and wait patiently until there are seats for us. Sometimes we have to fly in groups and choose which people to leave behind. There was one time we were denied seats in first class because we were wearing jeans and that is not the proper dress code (for non-revenue passengers), so we had to wait three hours for the next flight. That never happened again, which means that every time I fly I'm wearing slacks. (A lot of people now ask me if I'm traveling for work.)
I thought I knew how to roll with the punches that come with flying standby, but never have I ever tried to fly in and out of LAX.
Los Angeles International Airport.
One of my very close friends is living in LA this summer because she is currently an intern for Warner Brothers! This is a really awesome opportunity for her, and of course I told her I would come and visit at some point this summer. Originally, my friend, Laura, and I were planning on going to see Claire, and the three of us had an entire weekend marked with a full itinerary.
Laura and I packed our bags and woke up at an ungodly hour on a Thursday morning (4am) to see if we could catch the first flight out of DFW. If we did not, there would be no worries because there was a flight departing for LAX every hour, and since we had been listed for the first flight, we would assuredly be given seats by the end of the day.
I have never seen anything like it. Full flights and oversold flights with more than 50 passengers on standby. Our names would bounce through the numbers in line going from the 40s to the teens and then back up to the 30s... we were getting nowhere. The day resulted in seven hours at the airport bouncing between gates and six missed flights. We gave up and went home after that feeling rather depressed.
2 weeks later, I told Claire I would try again. Why not at least try? However, this time I had very low expectations. I didn't want to get my hopes up! I packed a bag early on a Friday morning and planned to head to the airport after work. After talking to my Dad about how flights were looking, however, I saw that once again the plan was futile. There would be no traveling from DFW to LAX that day.
"Saturday looks like it might work though," he told me, so I planned to try in the morning instead. The last flight out of DFW on Friday night was cancelled, so this made things even more complicated. It looked like my only chance would be to opt for John Wayne in Orange County as my destination. I told Claire I would let her know if I caught a flight and told my Dad I would keep him updated and early that morning my Mom drove me out to the airport.
I got through security fine and made it to my gate, spotting my name as the seventh on the standby passenger list. I sat and began to read where I had left off in The Hobbit, wondering in the back of my mine how long my wait would be at the airport that day before I gave up again. Once the entire plane had been boarded I changed my seat to be closer to the gate agents so that I could easily get information about being rolled over to the next flight.
Then, to my surprise, the gate agent called my name! I walked up to the desk, a simple boarding pass that was only meant to get me through security in hand, waiting to see if I could trade it for an actual plane ticket with a seat number on it. The two ladies on their computers hardly paid me any attention as they balanced phone calls, read information, and printed documents in a rush to have all in order before the plane took off. Finally, one of them looked up and pointed a manicured finger at me saying, "You're a maybe."
Ok, a "maybe". I felt like that was my constant status with a running record of turning into a "no". But I could deal with that, so I patiently waited at the ticket-checking machine, not daring to get my hopes up, all the while watching the two gate agents stress about getting this plane properly loaded on time. After what might have been only a couple of minutes, the same lady with the manicure looked up again and commanded, "Alright Heidi, follow me," taking off quickly down the jet bridge.
This was really strange - something I have never done before. I've never strolled down the jet bridge without a legitimate ticket in hand. Of course, this could not mean that I actually had a seat, so still I tried not to be too hopeful. She did not even look back at me when we got down to the plane, and I knew it would be foolish to follow her on board, so I awkwardly stood off to the side next to a worker who was collecting strollers to load underneath. There were not any passengers in view, so I was left there feeling teased as they had brought me that close to the plane only so I could look at their anxious fingers itching to close the door and close me out. Would I watch it pull away from the bridge too? It was too cruel!
Finally, the gate agent stepped off the plane and acknowledged me again. "Row 19!" was all she said, indicating that there was no time to lose. Towing my bag behind me I entered the plane, and the male flight attendant looked at me impatiently and actually ordered me with these words: "Quick as a bunny." I would have laughed if I wasn't feeling so rushed!
As I stormed down the aisle as quickly as was possible without hitting other passengers with my carry-ons, I was beginning to think about how this was the first time I was only told a row to go to and not actually given a seat number. For a second I wanted to panic, but then I realized that with everyone else seated it would not be hard to find my seat. I had to text both my parents and Claire who were all waiting to hear if I had made this flight, and they were already telling us to put away our electronics. Only moments after I was seated, the plane began to back out of the terminal. I started to just breathe and try to go through everything that had just happened in my head, and that's when it first sunk in - I was actually going to be seeing my friend and spending my weekend in California!! I finally made it!
And it was well worth it. :)
Monday, July 2, 2012
One Patriot Not Proud of This Pop Culture
I went to the Yahoo home
page this morning to sign into my email when a top news story caught my eye.
Box Office Report: 'Ted' Earns Record
$54.1 Mil; 'Magic Mike' Sizzles With $39.2 Mil
I clicked on to read
about the record breaking numbers and found the article reporting, "It's the first time in history that two R-rated movies opened
north of $20 million on the same weekend" (Yahoo! Movies). In
fact, the top 3 movies in the box office right now are 'Ted' at number one,
followed by 'Magic Mike' in place two, and THEN Pixar's 'Brave'. Not to
mention 'Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter' is currently holding the sixth spot
on the list.
Let's take a look at books while we're at it.
I'm sure we've all been made aware of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy
that is still holding position one on the New York Best Seller's List for
Fiction. This is erotic fiction, and it only took a week for 856,000
copies of the trilogy to be sold. The surge of sales is being compared to
that of Harry Potter books. The first book was only
released last year, and already it has swept across the nation, making its name
known, and has been translated into over 30 other languages. Oh, and get
this, Universal and Focus Features have already bought the movie rights.
Back to the box office. I can't even
imagine the weekend that this film will be released. How will it not be
put straight into adult movie stores??
You know, the entertainment industry only
supplies to the popular demand. I don't think it is fair to put all the
blame on them. Really, America? It is our participation and our
money that supports this kind of pop culture. I cannot say I am
completely innocent...there are plenty of sitcoms or movies that have some
suggestive material in them that I've simply dismissed because I still like the
show. However, seeing things blow up to this level of crude humor and
sexual innuendos makes me realize how just how slippery the slope is.
Maybe I'm not one to support 'Ted', 'Magic Mike', or Fifty Shades,
but what about the people that do? I've heard some of my own friends and
people I love and respect mention some of these titles
and nonchalantly admit to reading or seeing something that reserves
some shock factor for me. They didn't start there. It has gradually
become more and more "okay" and perhaps more addicting to be
entertained by raunchy themes and erotic elements.
So what's next? What is going to be on the
screens 5 - 10 years from now? What will we keep allowing to ooze into
our culture that will break new records and might have our great-grandparents
rolling in their graves? Come on America, let's stop and use our brains
for a second. Where is all this leading? Is it really
fulfilling?
What are we here for? What is the bigger picture?
For all that we have done we are condemned, but we have been offered such an
amazing gift. It defies all odds - there is a God who loves and offers
not just immediate, but ETERNAL salvation! Love. Love that defies
all odds. Love that will completely enrapture your heart if you let it.
Love that redeems, that saves, that is pure and healthy. In light
of that, are we willing to mess around at the peak of the slippery slope?
Romans 1
18 The wrath of God is being revealed from
heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the
truth by their wickedness, 19 since
what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to
them. 20 For since the creation of the world God’s
invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen,
being understood from what has been made, so that people are without
excuse.
21 For although they knew God, they neither
glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile
and their foolish hearts were darkened. 22 Although
they claimed to be wise, they became fools 23 and
exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a
mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles.
24 Therefore God gave them
over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for
the degrading of their bodies with one another. 25 They
exchanged the truth about God for a lie, and worshiped and served created
things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.
26 Because of this, God gave them over to
shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for
unnatural ones. 27 In the same way the men
also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one
another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves
the due penalty for their error.
28 Furthermore, just as they
did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them
over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done. 29 They have
become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They
are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, 30 slanderers,
God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil;
they disobey their parents; 31 they have
no understanding, no fidelity, no love, no mercy. 32 Although
they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve
death, they not only continue to do these very things but also
approve of those who practice them.
References:
Monday, June 18, 2012
I Can't Play Your Game
It makes me sick,
This little trick -
It gets me every time.
You set to win
Then enter in,
Take all those bets of mine.
How I ramble
As I gamble
And you play the game so right.
Now I'm left wanting
And your ghost is haunting...
Did you do it out of spite?
~Heidi Joens
This little trick -
It gets me every time.
You set to win
Then enter in,
Take all those bets of mine.
How I ramble
As I gamble
And you play the game so right.
Now I'm left wanting
And your ghost is haunting...
Did you do it out of spite?
~Heidi Joens
Thursday, April 19, 2012
What a precious morning!
Today was my last day with my cooperating teacher in Field Based 2. I have been in first grade ever since the week before Spring Break, and they are some of the most precious children I have ever met. This morning I was asked upon entering the classroom to teach during the time I was there, and while it was a bit of a difficult morning with their desks having been rearranged and the rowdiness brought to a new level, I was able to leave on a very good note.
The first precious comment I received, although a bit silly, happened when little McKayla raised her hand and asked, "Miss Cinderella, can I go to the bathroom?" My immediate reaction was to laugh at randomly being referred to as a fairy tale character, and in response to this she looked at me, placed her hand on her hip, and said, "Well, you do look like Cinderella," as if this was an obvious fact I should have known already. This same girl has once before asked me if I was Rapunzel.
I announced about ten minutes before I would be having to leave that it was my last day with them. There was a chorus of "aww"s and "No!"s around the room - of course it is always touching when they are sad to see you go. I then informed them that I had brought a little something to give them before I left, and immediately the classroom mood changed as a "Yay!" was announced unanimously. I pulled out of my bag bookmarks with various pictures on them ready to be colored and let each child pick out the one he or she wanted. By this time the teacher had come back into the room and it was time for me to go.
Their teacher gathered everyone's attention and told them again that it was my last day and that I was about to leave. Immediately, the three students closest to where I was standing threw their arms around me as the rest of the class started moving in our direction. The teacher instructed for them to get in a line and take turns hugging me, but some of them would not pull away and even had to be pulled off by the teacher so that other students could have their turn - how precious!! I cherish moments like these.
One of the girls came up to me with her bookmark during all the hugs and asked if I could sign it so that she could "remember me". :) Of course I obliged. Soon enough, a couple other students came up to me with their bookmarks and a sharpie asking if they could have my "autograph". Suddenly I was a celebrity! I'm not sure why that term came up, but there very quickly formed another line of students all wanting me to sign their bookmarks that I had just handed out. I signed my name about 22 times, and by this point I was way past my due time to leave.
On my way to the door, their teacher asked if they could allow me to get to the door and ordered for no one to "grab at me", but a couple students gave me another hug anyways, and how could I not hug them back? They were so sweet and, obviously my favorite word to use in describing them: precious. I would not have traded this experience for the world. :)
The first precious comment I received, although a bit silly, happened when little McKayla raised her hand and asked, "Miss Cinderella, can I go to the bathroom?" My immediate reaction was to laugh at randomly being referred to as a fairy tale character, and in response to this she looked at me, placed her hand on her hip, and said, "Well, you do look like Cinderella," as if this was an obvious fact I should have known already. This same girl has once before asked me if I was Rapunzel.
I announced about ten minutes before I would be having to leave that it was my last day with them. There was a chorus of "aww"s and "No!"s around the room - of course it is always touching when they are sad to see you go. I then informed them that I had brought a little something to give them before I left, and immediately the classroom mood changed as a "Yay!" was announced unanimously. I pulled out of my bag bookmarks with various pictures on them ready to be colored and let each child pick out the one he or she wanted. By this time the teacher had come back into the room and it was time for me to go.
Their teacher gathered everyone's attention and told them again that it was my last day and that I was about to leave. Immediately, the three students closest to where I was standing threw their arms around me as the rest of the class started moving in our direction. The teacher instructed for them to get in a line and take turns hugging me, but some of them would not pull away and even had to be pulled off by the teacher so that other students could have their turn - how precious!! I cherish moments like these.
One of the girls came up to me with her bookmark during all the hugs and asked if I could sign it so that she could "remember me". :) Of course I obliged. Soon enough, a couple other students came up to me with their bookmarks and a sharpie asking if they could have my "autograph". Suddenly I was a celebrity! I'm not sure why that term came up, but there very quickly formed another line of students all wanting me to sign their bookmarks that I had just handed out. I signed my name about 22 times, and by this point I was way past my due time to leave.
On my way to the door, their teacher asked if they could allow me to get to the door and ordered for no one to "grab at me", but a couple students gave me another hug anyways, and how could I not hug them back? They were so sweet and, obviously my favorite word to use in describing them: precious. I would not have traded this experience for the world. :)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Blinded
I wanted you
To be my light,
So I put sunglasses on.
I imagined you
So very bright,
But my perception was all wrong.
The shades obscured
My point of view,
And when I finally removed them,
There you stood,
A faded blue,
A rock and not a gem.
My shoulders slumped
And head dropped low
As disappointment reigned;
Cupid must have
Bent his arrow
When he nocked and aimed.
~Heidi Joens
To be my light,
So I put sunglasses on.
I imagined you
So very bright,
But my perception was all wrong.
The shades obscured
My point of view,
And when I finally removed them,
There you stood,
A faded blue,
A rock and not a gem.
My shoulders slumped
And head dropped low
As disappointment reigned;
Cupid must have
Bent his arrow
When he nocked and aimed.
~Heidi Joens
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